


and miles to go before i sleep

by sakon



Category: Ayatsuri Sakon | Puppet Master Sakon
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-08-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:26:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26060368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakon/pseuds/sakon
Summary: There is no rest. Not yet.
Kudos: 1





	and miles to go before i sleep

His body weighs. His back hurts and creaks. There’s still so much to do though — reading and reading and looking into more and more — and there's always more beyond that. More seeps into his bones, into the dry of his eyes, right until the point he’s slamming his head against the desk because he can’t find anything on the more and the this and that. He always can’t until he can’t. The kanji seems so tiny against the page. Each flip left only makes the pages tinier, the sun rising faster behind him, the voices in his skull buzzing against his will and concentration.

His eyes look like tree trunks, branching reds spreading across the whites. A hand rubs across the burning in his eyes, and it only burns more. He’s flipped through countless pages, wrists feeling sore, back knowing the curve of the table; it becomes like that every time. Whether it’s traveling through a forest to get through thickets and winter and all the unavoidables or the words consuming, something’s there every time. He will get tired, then conquer it.

Zenkichi balls a fist and rubs it against his eyes again, scrunched. Heavier they feel from blinking, from staring at the wall. His body feels terribly tired staring at the popcorn ceiling and so it comes. Sleep seems so obvious in the morning even more so than the night. His body leans forward, gravity dropping and weight slipping, and for a moment he’s so close—

Right before he wakes up once more. It takes him a moment to snap back into reality and feel the cold air rushing into his skin once more. To hear the clock on the wall ticking down and down and the people rushing into the workplace, sparing him looks of confusion at how tired he looks. 

He’s almost fallen asleep, though he’s expecting no different. It’s the third time it’s happened, and he hopes the fourth keeps him asleep deep down. It won’t. Falling asleep is the worst thing he can do. He's made promises that aren't exactly promises and words of vow to help others, and he can't abandon them. They grip him, telling him to move on without thinking it over. And he does. There is no consolation for his vulnerability, only the reminder that there is more to come and the thought that it'll help somebody that isn't him. It is not yet over. When it is and only when it is, he will be able to sleep. 

Zenkichi’s lips open into a silent scream when he yawns into his sleeve, ignoring how accommodating the wood of the table seems beneath his hands. Beyond it, there are floors that seem so accommodating. Then beyond that there are questions and answers to learn and seek and he cannot yet say no or yes to them; they are there, and they are waiting so patiently. As patient as time gets. It’s never patient, and he will never wait for the answers to simply come — he is an expert, and he will help solve it.

At his thoughts, his body reminds him of how cold it feels. How exhausting the lights are. He shrugs them off. 

It’s not the time to sleep. Perhaps in a few days or weeks, but not now. Beyond the building there are places to go and people to meet, and there is no yet way he can sleep. There is no way he can sleep.


End file.
